Flying Without Wings
by kukumalu01
Summary: When Emma finds out that Tancred is taken by Tracy, she feels as though she is flying without wings.


**kukumalu01~**

For this fic, "_Flying Without Wings_", I was scrolling through all the stories in fanfiction and they're mostly about TancXEmma. :D So I decided to try my hand at it too. Please leave a review on your thoughts about it! :) Edited on 26th October for many spelling/grammatical mistakes! (Sorry about it.)

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**Flying Without Wings**

_When Emma finds out that Tancred is taken with Tracy, she feels as though she is flying without wings._

_Title inspired by Westlife's "Flying Without Wings"._

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Three days ago, Emma Tolly tried to save a dying sparrow. It was a baby bird. Its nest was attacked and the bird, barely a few days old, fell out of its haven while its parents were defending the nest. Emma had seen the bird moving its wings pathetically.

"Aunty, Aunty!" Emma had cried, running towards the bird. Julia Ingledew looked startled as her niece ran past the bookshop as soon as the bus dropped her off.

"Emma?" Julia hastily looked up and down the deserted street before closing the door behind her and running after her niece. There never was such energy in Cathedral's Close before; the young girl running with her green cape blowing in the wind, and the brunette lady with her chestnut hair whipping across her face as she tried to keep up.

"Wait, Emma!"

Emma crouched beside the dying bird, chirping feebly. Emma scraped her palms as she pressed her hands on the gravel, seeing the twisted wing and hearing the faint sound. She wanted to save it; at the very least, she wanted to hold it tenderly in her hand so that it would not die alone.

"What should I do?" Emma said softly, as a doctor would over a severely ill patient.

"There is nothing you can do, Emma," Julia said gently, understanding washing over her face. Emma was an endowed girl at Bloor's, and had the amazing ability to change into a bird at will. Julia could not understand the bird's pain as Emma could, but she understood her niece at the very least.

"A vet?" Emma asked, a note of pleading in her voice. "We can't just let it die."

"We can't control it, dear. I'm sorry."

Though Julia had not locked the door to her bookshop, though she had chicken in the oven for dinner, though she had two tickets to the zoo for that evening, the both of them spent the rest of the afternoon by the bird's side.

It was a Friday.

* * *

Two days ago, Olivia Vertigo had flounced into Ingledew's bookstore in the morning, wearing a flamboyant hot pink hat and a white sundress. Julia was entertaining a potential customer, so Olivia went to the back, where Emma was pouring over a book.

Emma looked up and her blue eyes lit up. "Liv!" she greeted, smiling slightly. "Why are you dressed for the beach?"

"To match Mum," Olivia remarked, making herself at home on the carpeted floor, flinging her hat away to a pile of ancient books. "She's got a supporting role as the girlfriend to a lifeguard." She rolled on her back and looked up at Emma, sitting on the stool by the wooden table against the bookshelf. "Why do you look so sad?"

"A baby bird died yesterday," Emma sighed, looking away. "It fell off its nest."

"Oh, Em!" Olivia knew about Emma's special fondness for feathered creatures. Mulling over a thought for a few seconds, she bolted up to a sitting position and grinned.

"I'll share the latest gossip with you now then," Olivia said brightly, "to cheer you up! I was planning on telling you on Monday, but you should know now."

"Gossip?" Emma hugged her book to her chest. She liked to think of herself as a straightforward and honest person. Gossiping did not seem very nice or respectful. She had to admit though – once she found out something intriguing, she could not resist probing Olivia, her chief source, for more information.

If Olivia delighted in corrupting her mind though, that would be entirely Olivia's fault.

That was what Emma said to Olivia.

"Yeah, yeah, say what you need to remain innocent," Olivia said, rolling her eyes. "I heard from Fidelio and I couldn't resist seeing it for myself. It turns out that it IS real!"

"What is real, Olivia?"

"Tancred," Olivia said dramatically, enjoying seeing Emma's face freeze, her eyes wide, "is _dating_ Tracy Morsell! He asked her out on Thursday and she agreed!"

_Thud_.

_The History of Petrello; Condensed _fell from the numb fingers onto the floor. It was worth fifteen hundred dollars at the very least. With the new dent on its spine, its price would have been slashed by two hundred dollars. Normally, Emma would have been guilt-stricken and very sorry.

It did not matter to her anymore whether the value of the book had decreased.

Why bother? It seemed as though her whole life had no point in it anymore.

_Emma Tolly's life - for sale. Worth - Well, normally I would say about 80-90%? With this new dent in my heart, I would say my life's worth about 0%._

_Do the math._

It was a Saturday.

* * *

The day before, Charlie had urged everyone to meet at Pet's Café to discuss the latest plans. Emma had stared at the mirror in her bedroom for twenty minutes. She had brushed her hair at least fifteen times until it shone, and remembered how she had often thought of a certain person when she tied her hair. She let it down today, and wore just a black clip to pin up her hair. Black, a colour of mourning. Very appropriate.

She needed to see for herself whether the rumours were true. Olivia, with all her drama skills, could be very persuasive sometimes and her mouth often ran on. It could just be a really bad joke.

It _had_ to be a really bad joke.

She closed the door to the bookshop behind her quietly and walked along the road. She paused for a while near the oak tree and looked up at the nest. It had holes in it, and a red-feathered bird with a fierce gaze in his eyes stared back at her. The sparrow's family had lost. The oak tree was another bird's territory.

Good luck came in pairs.

Bad luck came in what? Truckloads?

Maybe it explained the butterflies in her stomach.

"I'm just hungry," Emma said aloud, and pushing all the thoughts away from her head, which threatened to open the floodgates behind her eyes, she hurried on at a pace which would have put Paton Yewbeam to shame.

"Where's your pet?" Norton Cross asked her as soon as she arrived at Pet's Café. Oh man, she forgot Nancy, her duck.

"The butterflies don't count, I suppose?" Emma muttered, tapping her stomach.

Norton gave her a strange look. "W-what?"

"It's okay, Norton," called Gabriel from inside. "I have enough pets for her too!"

Norton gave her one last look before turning to another person. "Where's your pet?"

Emma slipped behind the burly man and sat down in a vacant chair. "Where's T- erm, everyone else?" she asked, cursing herself for her stupidity.

She did not want to sound desperate.

"Well," Gabriel said, leaning against his chair. He fed a piece of biscuit to a gerbil, his grin contrasting sharply with her frown. "Charlie's late, but Tancred isn't coming." He shook his head. "He has something on with Tracy. A date, I think that's what he said."

He shrugged, and pushed the plate of biscuits to Emma. "Here, have some. The gerbils love it."

Emma forgot about her butterflies, she forgot about why she came into the café in the first place. "I'll be right back, Gabriel," she said, and pushed her chair back. She ran to the bathroom, a small cramp room at the corner of the café so that it was easily missed, and started to cry.

It was a Sunday.

* * *

Emma gave up sleeping the night before and Sunday rolled into another school day. She got out of the bed with puffy red eyes. Julia peered into her face worriedly when she waved her goodbye out of the door.

"Are you sure you don't have sore eyes, dear?" Julia said in concern. "Your eyes have been red for the past two days."

"Fine," Emma replied, her voice hoarse with lack of use. "Bye." She turned and ran towards the green bus waiting by the road.

She sat at the back, sitting beside the people she did not know. She made well sure she was in a crowded area before the bus rolled into the Heights. She squeezed her eyes shut and pretended to sleep.

"Tancred!" cried a boy's voice. A woof-whistle. "Who have you got there?"

A soprano voice floated to her ear, as if taunting. "My name's Tracy."

The voice was strong and domineering, cheerful and confident, happy and full of life.

It was everything Emma was not.

Emma took out her map of the world and pretended to study the continents tested during that afternoon's history lesson.

It was the only thing she had big enough to cover her face.

Emma felt her day go by in confusion. She could not bear to look up to see Tancred's face, yet she was thinking about it before lessons, during lessons and after lessons. She wanted to cry, yet she had cried too much already. She went to the bathroom once during the day, and stepped back when she saw her puffy red eyes, the dark smudges under them and the pale face.

_I can't go to the Red King's Room like this._

She had one more hour. It was free period. If she finished her homework, she would not have to go to the Red King's Room, right?

She walked out of the dormitory and into the field, and dumped her books under a tree. Maybe she could concentrate on the poor bird instead of Tancred. The bird needed someone to remember it, Tancred was getting plenty of attention already from that beautiful, idiotic, person-stealing, perfect-

_Shut up, Emma._

She stretched out her legs and breathed in the fresh air. She closed her eyes. The poor sparrow, with its soft brown feathers and soprano voice-

Emma's eyes opened. To her dismay and horror, here was Tracy Morsel sauntering in front of her with Tancred, staring at his new girlfriend as if he had never seen anything else more beautiful.

Emma's fist crushed the piece of paper she was carrying.

It seemed as though time crawled to a snail's pace to mock her. She watched the pair cut across the field as if no one else was there. Emma wanted to run and confront them, she wanted to run away, but her body said, _no, stay_.

So she stayed. And watched.

And felt as though her heart was being ripped.

It was only when she felt a hand touch her shoulder when she started. She saw Fidelio grin at her in his usual cheerful way. Charlie smiled at her apologetically.

Was she really that obvious?

In a feeble voice, not unlike the bird, she tried to give an excuse. "I thought if I did all my homework now, I wouldn't have to go to the Red King's room tonight." She smiled feebly, but the two boys winced inside. It looked as though she was about to cry.

Charlie shook his head. "It won't work, Em. They'll find something else for you to do."

"I know. Stupid idea."

As she allowed herself to be led away by her friends, she tried not to trip and fall. She could not concentrate; it was as though the world was dissolving around her. At the back of her mind, a frantic voice cried out scenarios she might face that night – Tancred's smirking face, Charlie's look of too much understanding, Gabriel's cheerful face…

It was as though she was falling, without wings to save her from the same fate as the sparrow.

Today was Monday.

How many _more_ days to go?

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A/N: ... So how was it? :D :D Leave a review!


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